Before Vanessa could complete the call, heavy knocks echoed against the front door, followed by a loud, authoritative bark.
Officer Davis: Police department! Open the door!
Vanessa froze. Her face drained of all color, the phone slipping from her fingers and crashing onto the tile floor.
Vanessa: You... you called them?
Mark: I didn't have to. The neighbors heard the screaming and the smashing wall ten minutes ago.
I walked over to the door and pulled it open wide. Two uniformed Dallas police officers stood on the porch, their hands resting near their holsters.
Officer Davis: Sir, we received a 911 dispatch regarding a domestic disturbance and property damage. Is everything alright in here?
Mark: No, Officer. My wife has been holding my missing mother hostage inside that wall for three weeks.
Officer Davis: What did you just say?
Vanessa: He’s lying! Officer, he’s having a psychotic episode! He attacked me! Look at my face!
Vanessa pointed to her reddened cheek, tears streaming down her face in a desperate display of victimhood.
Vanessa: He struck me! He tore up the drywall in a rage! My mother-in-law is senile and broke into the house!
Officer Miller: Ma'am, stay right there. Officer Davis, check the room.
Officer Davis stepped past me into the dining room. His eyes widened as he saw the shattered drywall, the folding chair inside the tiny dark closet, and my mother sitting on the floor, holding Lily in her arms.
Officer Davis: Jesus Christ... Call an ambulance right now, Miller! We have a medical emergency!
Eleanor: Officer... she locked me in there... she made me sign the inheritance papers...
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